


The Hound's Mask

by OrangeTabby



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bars and Pubs, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hook-Up, Masks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22041175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeTabby/pseuds/OrangeTabby
Summary: Sandor regretted his decision to attend the masquerade evening at his local bar, until the woman in the little bird mask arrived.After that, things got a whole lot more interesting....
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 42
Kudos: 303





	The Hound's Mask

**Author's Note:**

> It’s my birthday today (yay, New Years Eve baby!) and my birthday present to myself is a one-shot for all my lovely readers! You are all wonderful and I’ve appreciated each and every one of your comments/kudos/bookmarks on my stories 😊 
> 
> Please note I’ve tagged this for Explicit Language and I’m not kidding around. This is from Sandor’s POV and easily the swearingist thing I’ve ever written. 
> 
> A big thank you to [Ladeeknight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladeeknight/pseuds/Ladeeknight) for the idea that this story is based on – Sansa picking up Sandor at a bar.

Sandor noticed the woman as soon as she arrived in the bar. Her mask was feathered and blue, shaped to resemble a delicate little bird. It contrasted with her long auburn hair. She stood tall amidst a fluttering flock of other young women, but he could only have eyes for her.

This first time he caught her looking back he focused his gaze back on the whiskey he’d been nursing. He wasn’t a fucking creep, to be staring at a woman like that.

He turned on the barstool and looked over at his shoulder. Tormund was still chatting to the enormous blonde woman he’d spotted at the start of the evening. She’d thrown a drink at him initially, but she’d apparently calmed down. Tormund certainly had a way with women. The ginger fuckwit.

This was the last time he let the Wildling drag him out after work. What had he been thinking, attending a bar masquerade evening? It was just like a normal boring night watching Tormund pick up women at their local, except he’d had to spend an excessive amount of money on an appropriate mask to cover his hideous dog face.

He didn’t know why he was still even here. It wasn’t like Tormund would notice if he left.

Though, every time he snuck another glimpse at Little Bird Mask, she was always looking back at him.

Eventually, when he’d finally decided to go home and get some bloody peace and quiet, he saw her walking towards him, dodging crowds of masked people. Ignoring the stares that she attracted from men.

He took a drink and there she stood. Right beside him.

She appeared even fucking sexier up close.

He would bet his house that she was beautiful underneath that mask. Her eyes were bright blue, ivory skin, full lips. Fuck, what he would give to see those lips wrapped around his cock. He didn’t normally go for redheads, but she suited her vivid hair.

Shit, she was staring up at him. The scars nearest his mouth would be visible, even though he’d chosen the biggest mask he could find.

Why the fuck was she standing there?

“Hello,” she said softly.

He restrained the urge to bark an insult at her for wasting her precious time talking to the likes of him.

“Evening,” he replied eventually.

She licked her lips.

Fuck.

He wanted to bend her over and plow her until she screamed with pleasure.

She was so far out of his league he didn’t even deserve to be in the same room as her.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Her voice was sweeter than the jar of boiled lollies that git Beric kept on his desk at work.

“What?” He spoke without thinking and turned to check over his shoulder. She must be talking to someone else. Maybe Tormund had snuck up on them.

She touched his arm, light as a feather. Her hand appeared dainty against his hairy arm. What the fuck was going on?

“Can I buy you a drink?” she repeated.

He gave his Storm’s End single malt whiskey a long stare. Time to fucking stop drinking if he was hearing things.

“I’ll have a cola,” he muttered cautiously.

She smiled and ordered an orange juice for herself and a cola for him.

That seemed real enough. He felt reasonably sure he wasn’t hallucinating this situation. She didn’t even appear drunk. He’d seen her with a glass of wine earlier in the evening but nothing since.

She took a sip of her drink. He envied her straw.

“I’m Sansa,” she said, tilting her head to the side.

“Sandor,” he replied, hardly hesitating at all this time.

She held out her hand for him to shake. “Pleased to meet you,” she chirped politely.

He gave her his usual firm handshake without any concessions for her femininity. She returned it equally firmly, and he fell a little more in lust. Fuck.

Sansa looked at him through the eyeholes of her mask like she expected him to make pointless conversation with her.

He searched for something to say to this perfect woman.

Thank fuck she spoke first. “So what do you do, Sandor?”

“I’m in construction,” he replied. He refrained from saying he ran his own small construction company. He couldn’t abide boasting. “What about you?”

Her gaze went soft. “I teach kindergarten.” She turned her hands over to show him her palms. What looked like faint paint stains streaked the pads of her fingers. “Occupational hazard. Little Sam Tarly got into our paint supplies today and I had to wash him down. I couldn’t get the green out of his hair at all.”

He liked the imperfection. The rest of her was so fucking gorgeous, the humanness of paint stained hands made her even more appealing.

They talked about their jobs some more. She seemed interested in hearing about the contract he’d picked up for one of Stannis Baratheon’s seafood restaurants. She told him about the children she taught, whom she seemed to genuinely care about. He couldn’t imagine a childhood with the love and attention of someone like her. He hoped those kids would one day realise how fucking lucky they were.

“Do you usually come here on a Friday?” she said sometime later.

“Fuck no.” He jabbed his thumb at a point behind them. “The Wildling talked me into it.”

She looked behind him towards Tormund and the huge blonde. Her eyes went wide. “Oh, that’s my friend Brienne.” She half raised a hand as if she wanted to wave at them, but then lowered it. “They seem… um, very busy.”

Sandor followed her gaze. That ginger cunt really did have a way with women. The blonde had looked like she meant to punch him after the thrown drink earlier, now she was practically eating his face.

He shrugged. “Yeah that happens.”

Sansa moved closer to him. “What do you normally do in your free time?”

She smelled so fucking good. It was distracting.

He licked his lips.

Her gaze focused intently on his mouth, then back up to his eyes.

“I work out. Watch the football, do woodwork. Work on my bike. What about you?

“I like to run. Spend time with my family. Friends.” She shrugged. “Normal stuff, you know. Read. Bake.”

Sandor refrained from pointing out not everyone wanted to spend time with their family, ‘normal’ or not.

“Do you often come to this shithole on a Friday?” he said instead.

Her lips twitched up in a small smile. “No, I’m here for my friend Margaery’s birthday. She liked the idea of a masquerade theme evening and we both live nearby.”

She nodded towards the table she’d been at before.

He couldn’t bloody tell which one was Margaery. They all looked the fucking same. Fancy hair, expensive clothes, smug mouths.

The fluttering young women had been joined by some young men who were all primped up prettier than the girls.

Maybe Margaery was the one sitting on the knee of one of the men. She had a rose mask and long pale brown hair, he had yellow hair and a stag mask with giant antlers. Pretentious twat.

“Yes, that’s her.” What was she, a fucking mind reader?

“And yet here you are, having drinks with an ugly old dog.”

She reached over and tapped the cheek of his hound mask thoughtfully. To his surprise, he didn’t involuntarily flinch away from her touch. He usually did when someone went near his face, but he felt comfortable with her.

“She’s dating Joffrey, he’s my ex.”

He couldn’t see her facial expression, but she sounded… resigned.

“He must be a stupid git if he broke up with you,” he said.

Sansa smiled faintly. “I broke up with him. He, hmm, he wasn’t nice to me.” She shook her head. “I should be able to say it. He got violent. I warned Margaery, but she said she would handle him.”

Sandor looked back at the yellow haired shit stain with the antlers. The fuckwit fed his girlfriend a cherry. “Want me to fuck him up for you?”

He hadn’t gotten himself involved in violence since his shitty fucking childhood, but he couldn’t abide men who hurt women. Flattening that wank nugget would be worth it for this beautiful little bird standing in front of him.

“No, thank you,” she said. “He’s not worth it. I wanted to talk to you, anyway. Getting away from him was just a bonus.”

“So you picked the ugliest cunt in the bar to talk to?”

“I haven’t seen most of your face, but you don’t look ugly to me. You look…” She eyed him up and down, lingering on his crotch region which felt pretty fucking interested in the current situation. “You are very different to Joffrey.”

“I’m sure,” he said dryly.

They chatted some more, which he found far easier than he usually did making pointless chat with people. Especially beautiful women.

“Time for the grand unmasking.” They both looked up from their conversation to see some cunt standing on the bar, announcing the unmasking like a fucking lord of the manor.

Sansa jiggled with excitement and clapped her hands. The movements made her tits bounce and he filed the memory away for future wank material. 

He put that compelling thought aside and sighed.

Time for her to see the monster she’d decided to befriend.

For a minute there he’d really thought she’d been interested in a fuck. That would change pretty fucking fast once she realised her mistake.

The twat on the bar was counting down, the drunken crowd counting with him.

“Three… two… one.”

A cheer echoed around the room and everyone removed their masks. Including him. And her.

He faced her, resigned to the inevitable rejection.

Of course she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever fucking seen.

To her credit she didn’t wince at all when she took in the ruin of his face.

Sansa put a hand on his scarred cheek, and he blinked in surprise. Why the fuck was she still here?

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“It’s numb,” he replied. “No more fucking nerves under the burns so it feels like nothing.”

She moved that hand to his shoulder and leaned closer, right up in his face on the bad side. “Can you feel this?”

She must have kissed him there. “No,” he replied. “But I wish I fucking could.”

She laughed gently, then brushed her lips over the scarred corner of his mouth. “How about now?”

He didn’t move, afraid she’d run if he pushed her. Though to her credit she seemed far braver than him. “Yeah, I can feel you there.”

She shifted in front of him properly, brushing a kiss over his lips again. She moved a cat’s whisker back and looked into his eyes. “And there?”

He huffed and followed her lips, giving her a proper fucking kiss. He felt her smile against him then she kissed him back.

She tasted of orange juice and fucking sunshine. He put his hands on her waist and she immediately pressed herself full length against him.

Fuck it.

Sansa was too bloody sexy for his own good.

“Why don’t we get going?” she murmured into his ear, her voice husky.

She was clearly horny as fuck. He knew she wasn’t drunk, and she said she wanted him. Why the fuck not?

Sansa bid goodbye to her friends, little bird mask dangling from her fingertips. The Margaery woman did a visible double take when she saw him, but Sansa didn’t seem to notice.

He didn’t bother interrupting Tormund.

Her townhouse was nearby, far fancier than he’d have expected for someone on a Kindergarten teacher’s salary.

Sansa took his mask once they got inside and put it with hers on the coffee table. She brushed her fingers across the masks and smiled for some reason.

An enormous dog greeted them, one of those breeds who resembled a fucking wolf. He held out his hand for it to sniff, which it did cursorily then sniffed his jeans with far more enthusiasm, making excited little wuffing noises as it did.

“Lady!” exclaimed Sansa, sounding embarrassed. “That’s not polite.”

Sandor laughed. “I probably smell of my cat. I’m always finding black fur on my clothes.”

Sansa pulled Lady away by her collar. “You have a cat? You don’t seem like a cat person.”

“Stranger’s a big ugly fucker, same as me,” Sandor said, shrugging. “Found him in the dumpster outside work. We get along alright.”

Sansa took Sandor’s hand and tugged him up the stairs and down a small hallway into what was evidently her bedroom.

In a clatter of claws on the polished wood floors, Lady followed them. The dog whined when Sansa shut the bedroom door on her.

“We’ll see you…” Sansa looked Sandor up and down as she spoke through the door, “soon, Lady.”

She pushed Sandor against the door and leaned in for a kiss.

He was more than willing to be manhandled by the hottest woman he’d ever seen. He couldn’t imagine that her twat ex-boyfriend would have let her do anything like that. If she wanted to work out any issues in bed who was he to fucking question reaping the benefits of that?

She moaned into his mouth as he slipped a hand under the silky material of the dark blue top she was wearing.

His calloused fingers felt like an insult against her smooth skin, but she seemed to welcome the way he was touching her, so he continued running his hand up her ribs, brushing the lace on the underside of her bra with his thumb.

She pulled back from their kisses and before he’d have the chance to blink twice, she’d whipped off her top and bra and was standing tits out and glorious in front of him.

He blinked again and stared at her.

Seven hells, she was thirsty for his cock.

Fuck, he was thirsty for all of her.

What bloody lottery did he win to end up here with this magnificent fucking woman?

His pause seemed to deflate her confidence a touch because her shoulders started to droop.

Fuck that.

He dropped to his knees at her feet to worship the goddess that she was and took one of those pink nipples in his mouth.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and moaned again. That was rapidly becoming his favourite sound in the world.

He made a mental note to get as much noise out of her as he could tonight, and he wanted to taste every inch of her exquisite body as he did.

She was writhing by the time he’d finished with her tits and moved down her body. He thanked all the gods that she wore a skirt. He grazed his fingers on her thigh just beneath the hem of it, then glanced up to make sure she was happy for him to do that.

“Yes,” she breathed out. “Touch me, please Sandor.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He manoeuvred her so she was the one against the bedroom door, then tugged up her skirt so it bunched around her waist.

She was wearing plain black underpants and he’d never seen anything sexier. He pulled them down and off, eager to get a glimpse of her sweet cunt. He was pleased to see she had hair down there, a shade darker than on her head. It was her body to do with as she fucking liked, of course, but he did enjoy a woman looking like a woman, not a hairless fucking kid.

He hoisted one of her legs over his shoulder and dove in.

Her cunt was very bit as fucking sweet as he knew it would be.

It would not take much to make her sing him a fucking song. One swipe of his tongue up her soaked pussy lips and she was already crying out again.

He noted with some smugness that she was moaning his name. Fuck he wanted to stick his cock in her.

Two of his fingers slipped inside her easily and he fucked her with them as he swirled his tongue around her clit. Her fingernails were digging into his scalp and he suspected she’d be drawing blood. Good. He wanted her to mark him as hers.

She ground herself against his face and shrieked when she came.

He sat back when she relaxed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His beard was going to smell like pussy, and he was more than okay with that.

Sansa looked down at him. She was flushed and wide eyed, still standing up but slumped against the door. She beckoned him to stand up.

He got to his feet, supressing a groan because he wasn’t as fucking young as he used to be.

Sansa grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. She seemed to like the taste of herself on his lips judging by her levels of enthusiasm.

She undid the buttons of his shirt as they kissed, pushing it over his shoulders. He shrugged it the rest of the way off.

She pulled back and eyed his naked chest, then ran her fingers through his chest hair and hummed in apparent approval.

No one as ruined as him could be vain, but he was a big fucker, and strong. 

She led him across the room to the bed. She lay down and held her arms out. He lay down beside her and they kissed again. Fuck she felt good in his arms.

“Bedside table,” she said, her chest heaving. “Condoms are in the top drawer.”

He kissed her again, then shuffled back and off the bed so he could finish undressing and find the condom.

Sansa had her eyes shut and was tracing her fingertips around her nipples. It was a fucking beautiful sight.

Opening the new box of condoms seemed to take forever in his haste. He cursed whatever sadist decided to cover the entire box in thin plastic packaging when the condoms themselves were already wrapped.

He grinned in triumph when he freed a condom packet from its inaccessible prison, and then climbed back on the bed to kneel between Sansa’s legs, squeezing her knee gently as he did so.

Her eyes opened and went wide as she finally got a good eyeful of his cock. He’d put money on the fact that tiny little shit of an ex-boyfriend from the bar was nowhere near as big as him.

She looked from his cock, up to his face and then back to his cock.

He finished rolling the condom on and paused. He sat back on his heels and regarded her. She lay splayed on her back, skirt still bunched around her waist, long legs wide and her pink cunt on display. Fuck he wanted in there.

He cleared his throat. “You okay?”

“Yes,” she said, a little hesitantly.

“You say stop and we stop. Any fucking time.” He would give his eyes for the chance to fuck her sweet cunt but only if she wanted him back. Any man who would coerce a woman was no fucking man at all.

She smiled at him then and seemed to relax. “I want you,” she said. “Inside of me.”

Thank fuck. For once in his life the fucking gods smiled upon him.

She made an inarticulate noise of pleasure as soon as the tip of his cock pushed inside her and kept on moaning as he went deeper. Fuck she was tight.

If someone had told him he would end the night balls deep in the hottest woman in Westeros he’d have laughed them out of the fucking door. Then punched them for such a stupid fucking piss take.

Sansa was wiggling and panting as he slid inside her. She wrapped her legs around him and clenched like his cock was the greatest fucking experience of her life. He hadn’t even started to fuck her properly yet.

She pulled him down for a kiss when he’d bottomed out inside her. He was happy to oblige. He had every intention of giving her anything she fucking wanted at this point.

Sandor sat back on his heels again, tugging on her legs to drape them over his shoulders. He didn’t know if she’d be up for more fucks after this so he’d better enjoy this one as much as he could, just in case. And by enjoy, he meant watching her as he fucked her.

He found his rhythm and Sansa’s eyes rolled back in a highly gratifying way. She made so much noise that he wondered if the neighbours could hear her. Fucking her was incredibly erotic and Sandor had to run through the figures for the Baratheon contract in his head just so he wouldn’t lose control and blow his load like a green boy.

The numbers worked until she started touching her clit, at which point he was utterly lost. She gave herself another orgasm as he pounded her, and he came hard as she shrieked in pleasure, her cunt clenching around his cock.

She let out a long breath as he slid back out of her, her body relaxed and boneless on her bed. She reached up a trembling arm and tugged on his shoulder, indicating she wanted him to lie down.

He flicked the condom into the wastebasket beside the bed and flopped down beside her. Sansa sighed contentedly and snuggled into his arms. After that experience, if she wanted to cuddle, he’d fucking cuddle all night.

He drifted off to sleep with her in his arms. This was the best fucking night of his life.


End file.
